


A Ship Without Anchor

by BootifulSunflower



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Idols, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan-centric, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Mark Lee (NCT), Sexual Assault, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, markhyuck friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24733849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootifulSunflower/pseuds/BootifulSunflower
Summary: "If he was big like Johnny this wouldn’t have even happened to him; if he was respected like Taeyong it wouldn’t have happened. It was like Daejung had picked off the weakest member, the runt of the litter..."...NCT's newest manager finds Haechan really cute and, between 127 and Dream promotions, he becomes easy prey. Can the members figure out what's happening before it's too late?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee
Comments: 84
Kudos: 622





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Sunflowers!
> 
> This is going to be a hurt and comfort fic and it will get worse before it gets better but I will add tags and trigger warning before each chapter.
> 
> All members will be mentioned but I've only tagged the main characters. Markhyuck aren't in a relationship but their friendship is the main focus.
> 
> Chapter One trigger warnings: Inappropriate touching

“Hyung, good morning!” Haechan whispered, creeping out of his and Johnny’s room.

His manager spoke on the other end of the phone. “Haechanie, are you ready? I’m outside.”

“You’re outside?” Haechan repeated, stuffing his feet into his shoes. “I’ll be one minute.”

“I bought kimbap.”

“Kimbap? Hyung, wah, you really are my favourite!”

“One minute, Haechanie, or I’ll eat it myself!”

Daejung was the most recent addition to the manager team but had quickly become Haechan’s favourite. He saw how hard Haechan worked, how burdensome his schedules were. Like Haechan, Daejung switched between Dream and 127 so he was always ferrying him from one group to the other.

During the winter months he always had a blanket in the car and a hot drink waiting and as summer approached he bought Haechan iced americanos and ice cream.

“Hyung, I feel so sorry for you,” Haechan said as he climbed into the passenger seat forty-seven seconds later. It was the start of his Dream promotions and, while most of 127 were tucked up in their beds, Haechan had a full day of practice ahead of him. “You must think it’s so unfair you’re stuck me.”

Daejung shook his head passing him a pack of kimbap. “Haechan-ah, don’t be silly.”

“You’re always up before me,” Haechan continued. “And you go to bed after me. Hyung - fighting!”

Daejung laughed. “It’s my job, Haechan-ah. Anyway, I don’t mind - you’re so cute!”

Haechan shot him finger hearts. You would think he’d grown used to being called cute but, no, hearing it still gave him satisfaction.

“Shall we get ice cream before or after practice?”

Haechan’s eyes lit up but he said, “Hyung… No ice creams until after promotions.”

“Eh?” Daejong threw him a quizzical look and laughed when he saw Haechan nodding and winking. “Our little secret?” Daejung promised, nudging him with his elbow.

* * *

Practice did not go well that day. Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle and Jisung had the choreography memorised but Haechan… Let’s just say Haechan didn’t.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jisung said, when he saw Haechan’s frustration building. “Hyung, just do it like this and… ah. No, that wasn’t it.”

Haechan stamped his feet, balled his fists and yelled out in frustration.

Renjun covered his ears and glared at him but Jaemin called, “Cute!”

“I’m not cute, I’m angry!”

“So cute!”

Jisung scrunched up his nose. He did _not_ find his hyungs cute; he’d made that clear on many occasions. “Hyung, try it again.”

Haechan did.

Jisung grimaced. “You just made the exact same mistake. It’s _this,_ not _this.”_ He showed him again.

“Haechan, pabo!” Jeno sang.

“Alright, give him a break,” Daejung said. “He’s right off the back of 127 promotions.”

Haechan stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

At the end of practice Soobin, their choreographer, said Haechan needed to stay behind and work for another hour. At least.

Haechan watched his Dream members leave, then sidled over to Daejung.

“Daejung-hyung, let’s have a break. Let’s go get ice cream now!”

“Didn’t you _just_ promise Soobin to get the second verse down by tomorrow?" Daejung reminded him.

“No one will have to know…”

“Soobin-ssi won’t know?” Daejung said, raising his eyebrows.

Haechan switched on his charm. “Okay, then can Daejungie hyung go and get Haechannie an ice cream? Please, Haechannie is so thad.” Doing _aegyo_ came so naturally, sometimes he didn’t even know he was doing it. It was how he got his way with his hyungs, they couldn’t resist it, and he knew _exactly_ how to play each member.

But Daejung was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.

Haechan felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him and immediately dropped the cute stance he had adopted.

Daejung cleared his throat. “Okay – um – what flavour?”

* * *

More days passed, days that were filled with schedules: dance practice, vocal practice, concert rehearsals, interviews, photoshoots, vlives, TV appearances, track video shootings, MV shootings, costume fittings…

Haechan was exhausted but it was the kind of exhaustion that came from doing what he loved - so it was okay. He spent more time sleeping in vans, makeup chairs and on his members' shoulders than he did sleeping in his own bed.

He would often see their managers, Daejung, Joowon and Woosung, desperately (but unsuccessfully) trying to find ways to ease his schedule. He came upon one such conversation at the vending machine in the SM Building.

“127 _could_ do this interview with him.”

“No, better than he misses the first half of Dream’s vlive, does the interview and joins Dream later.”

“And here, on this day - if Haechanie records his parts with 127 first then he can join Dream in time for their track video shooting.”

“And if the shooting finishes early he can probably make the last two hours of 127 concert rehearsal.”

Upon hearing this, Haechan gave Daejung his best puppy dog eyes.

Daejung cleared his throat. “He’ll need to miss that rehearsal, sajangnim. Dream Music Shows start the next day – he’ll need his rest.”

Joowon and Woosung paused. “Oh, yes, you’re right, Daejung-ah. Good spot.”

“Just two more weeks, hmm?” Daejung said later that week, following both the recording session with 127 and the track video shooting with Dream. Daejung opened the passenger door for him, ruffling his hair as he climbed in. “Get some sleep, it’s a long drive.” 

Haechan was too tired to summon up a response. He tilted his head against the window and let his eyes fall shut.

Daejung was a good driver, always very smooth, and he liked listening to soothing ballads. Minutes into the journey, Haechan had slipped into a deep and exhausted sleep.

When he was stressed about work, he often had stressful work-related dreams.

Haechan dreamed that he had forgotten about their upcoming 127 concert but he was in the middle of filming NCT Life with Dream. He was about to do a zipline, harnessed up and everything. 

_“If you go now you can still make it!”_

_“Help me get down!”_

_“Just jump!”_

Haechan jumped. He was soaring. He could see the concert venue in the distance. He was going to make it – the zipline would drop right in the middle of it.

He remembered thinking, _wow, this harness is tight. Why is it so tight on my thigh?_ before suddenly startling awake.

They were almost home, he’d been asleep for the entire journey. He rubbed his eyes and looked down for his phone and-

_Daejung’s hand was on his thigh._

Haechan blinked.

Before he could say anything, Daejung pulled it away. He flicked on the indicator as they approached the turning and then his hand returned to the steering wheel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sunflowers!
> 
> I hope you (enjoy??) the second chapter. As mentioned, this fic will definitely touch on some dark themes so please read the trigger warnings before each chapter.
> 
> Their living arrangements mirror the current living arrangements of NCT 127 - Doyoung, Taeyong, Johnny and Haechan in one apartment; Mark, Jaehyun, Taeil, Jungwoo and Yuta in another. However, no manager lives with them.
> 
> This isn't set in a particular NCT era, although I was inspired to write it during their latest comeback and have used some IRL things like Mark buying the Dreamies bubble tea and bread sticks.
> 
> Chapter Two trigger warnings: physical assault, victim blaming

“Why is Mark Lee here?” Chenle complained.

Mark threw his hands up, shopping bags swinging. “Aish, these brats!”

There was a chorus of laughter around the waiting room of Music Core as Mark put down his gifts: bubble tea and twisted bread sticks.

All day, Haechan’s thoughts kept straying to last night in the van. How long had Daejung’s hand laid there, on his thigh, before Haechan woke up? It must have been a long time if it entered his dream like that. Like that time he dreamed he was in Overwatch and a bird gave away his position and when he work up it turned out the bird was Renjun warming up his voice.

_Should he have said something? Was he overreacting?_

“Jaeminnie is so grateful!” Jaemin said cutely, breaking Haechan’s train of thought. He was hugging a squirming Mark from behind.

Mark fought free and crossed over to Haechan, handing him his favourite drink: green tea and mango.

“Ya, why are you following me? Don’t we see each other enough?” Haechan said.

Mark flicked him on the forehead and sat down next to him.

Haechan immediately claimed Mark’s shoulder for himself.

“Will you stay till the end?” Chenle asked. “We’re up for first place.”

“I’ll watch the performance,” Mark said. “But I’ve got SuperM rehearsals all day tomorrow. I dunno if I’ll stay to the very end-”

“No,” Haechan wailed, throwing his arms around Mark’s neck. “Mark-hyung, stay with Haechannie please!”

And just like that Mark relented, fighting to supress the grin that would otherwise split across his face.

Joowon walked in. “Ah, ah no!” he said immediately, upon seeing the Dreamies with drinks. “You need to change first.”

“Why!”

“Why!”

“Why!”

“Why!”

“Why!”

“Why!”

“No eating or drinking in your stage outfits. Come on, how many times do I have to say it?” Joowon looked at Daejung, who had been sitting in the corner and unpacking their in-ears. “Daejung-ah, back me up. I have to talk to the show director.” He left again.

“Daejungie hyung,” Jeno called. He pouted. “There’s ice – it’s melting. We’ll be careful.”

“You heard what Joowon said,” Daejung replied. He had a reputation for being soft but he was also new and had to defer to their other managers.

“There’s straws,” Haechan said, though without any cute inflections. “We’re not going to spill.”

“If you showed me some more aegyo, Haechannie, maybe us managers wouldn’t give you such a hard time,” Daejung joked.

Renjun thought this was so funny he had to demonstrate it by throwing the nearest thing (an empty water bottle) at Haechan. The rest of the Dreamies convulsed with laughter, stamping their feet on the ground.

Haechan flushed. He turned to the other members.

“Come on, let’s get changed. The sooner, the better.”

As the Dreamies berated Jeno for spilling his drink on his stage outfit that _one_ time _two_ years ago, Haechan caught Mark’s expression. He was the only one who hadn’t laughed. As he fiddled with his own drink, a muscle jumped in his jaw.

* * *

They didn’t win but it was the first performance of their comeback so they weren’t too disappointed – they had four more to go. And, as promised, Mark waited for Haechan till the end.

They were walking back to the car, trailing behind Daejung, when Mark wound an arm around Haechan’s neck and pulled him close.

“I don’t like the way he talks to you,” he said in a low voice.

Haechan stiffened. “Eh?”

“That manager… Asking you to do aegyo for him… that’s just creepy.”

Haechan felt his cheeks heating up. He was shameless when it came to aegyo in a way Mark had never understood - being forced to do it on national TV would do that to you. Mark liked his aegyo but he didn’t like Haechan showing aegyo to people that weren’t their members. Haechan assumed that he was jealous but that wasn’t necessarily fair, he was just being protective. _What would Mark think if he knew Haechan showed Daejung aegyo all the time? Would he think Haechan brought this unwanted attention on himself?_

“Tell me if he says anything else like that, okay?” Mark said, squeezing him one last time before letting him go.

They climbed into the middle seat and Mark handed him one of his airpods. “Are you going to sleep?”

Haechan nodded, resting his head against Mark’s shoulder.

“I’ll put on something mellow,” Mark murmured. His hand came to rest on Haechan’s leg.

Daejung turned to check that they were settled before setting off and – Haechan definitely wasn’t imagining it – his gaze lingered on Mark’s hand.

* * *

“Haechan-ah… Haechan-ah…?”

Taeil shrugged his shoulder and Haechan’s head rolled right off it, jerking him awake.

The oldest was laughing. “You fell asleep.”

Haechan flushed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

The practice room was filled with laughter.

“I was resting my eyes,” Haechan protested. A dance practice with 127 had been squeezed into his schedule between music shows with Dream.

“Cute!” Mark called from across the practice room. “He’s cute!”

“Soobin-noona, don’t you think Haechan has done a good job? Don’t you think he should go home early?” Taeyong said persuasively.

Haechan stood up, stretching his arms up wide. “No… I’m behind anyway-”

Taeyong waved for him to quieten - their choreographer was actually considering Taeyong’s suggestion.

Seeing her hesitate, the others added their voices.

“He’s been doing so well lately.”

“Come on, noona!”

“Let him have the evening off.”

Soobin relented. “I guess… you’ve got a busy couple of weeks. If it’s alright with the members, you can go early.”

Haechan was momentarily stunned. He had never expected this from their strict instructor.

“Eh…” Jungwoo said, “look at him smile now.”

Haechan was smiling… but then he heard car keys jangling and saw Daejung getting to his feet.

Haechan spoke quickly. “No, it’s okay. I want to stay and practice.”

There was a chorus of, “It’s okay. Go home, Haechannie. Get some rest. You deserve it!” from his members.

Haechan was already resuming his position. “I could keep up with you oldies in my sleep – actually I was practicing just now.”

“Uri maknae,” Daejung said, shaking his head. “So hard working.”

“So go practice in your sleep,” Yuta added, grinning, “at the dorm.”

The members egged him on, until Haechan couldn’t protest without sounding rude. So he grabbed his jacket and followed Daejung out of the door.

In the car, Haechan sat in the middle – as was his new habit – and put his earphones in.

When they pulled up to some traffic lights, Daejung turned in his seat and gestured to Haechan’s earphones.

Haechan pulled them out, though in truth he was too uneasy to listen to music or sleep.

“I’m glad I got a chance to speak to you alone,” Daejung said. “Haechannie, hyung is sorry if he made you uncomfortable.”

Haechan met his gaze.

“I was just trying to wake you up gently. The way you were sleeping it was… so cute.”

Haechan frowned. But Daejung hadn’t been trying to wake Haechan up… at least, that’s not what it seemed like.

Daejung’s smile fell. “I-” A horn blared. The traffic was moving again. Daejung turned back to the front. Once they set off, he adjusted his rear-view mirror so that he could look at Haechan. “I’ve told you that you remind me of my little brother, right?”

Haechan shrugged.

“Ah… I miss him so much. I miss my whole family. It’s hard, right? Moving to Seoul.”

He was waiting for Haechan to respond so he said, “yeah.”

“Sometimes when you laugh – ah, this is silly – when you laugh you sound like him. Though, I think he’s younger than you… When were you born?”

Haechan was sure Daejung knew this but he answered anyway. “2000.”

“Ah really?” Daejung shook his head. “So young! You and my little brother would be same-age friends,” he added earnestly.

Haechan stared out of the window. He understood what Daejung was trying to say. Haechan reminded him of his little brother and if he touched his little brother’s thigh it was just out of affection.

Daejung’s was wringing the steering wheel anxiously. 

“So, it’s okay right? You won’t mention it to anyone? It was just an accident and hyung is sorry.”

“Yeah,” Haechan muttered. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Daejung said, smiling. He reached towards the radio and turned the volume up.

The rest of the journey passed without conversation. But Daejung didn’t readjust the rear-view-mirror and, every so often, Haechan felt his eyes on his face.

* * *

A few more days passed. Dream performed on two more music shows, which were both followed by Daejung dropping Haechan off at the 127 dorm.

“Haechan-ah, why don’t you sit up front? Who’s gonna DJ for me?” Daejung looked back at him hopefully.

“I’m tired, hyung,” Haechan muttered. _Tired of you trying to make it up to me._ Daejung had crossed a line. Haechan might have accepted his apology but he wouldn’t forget how it felt to wake up with Daejung’s hands on him so easily.

“I know, I know…” Daejung seemed to consider his next words carefully and when he spoke it was with a false cheeriness. “Hey, you promise it’s got nothing to do with that time, right?”

Haechan met his gaze in the rear-view mirror. _Why was he bringing it up again?_ “It’s fine,” Haechan said coldly. “Really. If it were a problem, don’t you think I would have told someone?”

The rest of the journey was spent in stony silence. Daejung was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white.

It was usual for their managers to walk them to the door since saesangs sometimes hung around their building. But no saesangs were lingering tonight.

“I’ll be fine from here,” Haechan said once they passed through the lobby door.

Daejung ignored him.

Haechan scowled. Daejung had no reason to sulk – he shouldn’t have touched Haechan in the first place. Did he think Haechan would feel guilty for making him feel bad about it? Well, he didn’t.

They caught the lift to the 5th floor, where Haechan shared an apartment with Doyoung, Taeyong and Johnny.

As Haechan took his keys out, he saw Daejung look up and down the stairwell.

Haechan felt uneasy, something wasn’t right. He just wanted to get inside. Maybe then he could text Mark and tell him Daejung was acting strange.

Suddenly, a hand was fisted in his hair. Haechan cried out as Daejung slammed his head into the wall.

“Let me make something clear, you brat,” Daejung hissed into his ear. “Lee Soo Man – you know, your _CEO_ – is my uncle. Okay? Don’t think you can threaten me.”

“Get off me! Are you _crazy?”_

Daejung shoved him further into the wall and Haechan let out a pained whimper. “If you want to tell anyone you can also tell them how you lead me on, acting cute for me, hmm? Why don’t you tell them _that_?”

His hand tightened until Haechan felt a few hairs ripped from his skull, then released. He took a step back.

Haechan pushed away from the wall. He was in a state of shock. Daejung was – until very recently - his favourite manager. He was kind and occasionally funny, he always stood up for him, he always praised him. _How-how could he do this to him?_

He lifted a hand to his head and looked up at Daejung with eyes full of reproach.

Daejung straightened his jacket. “I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow.” He left.

Haechan fell back against the wall. He was so confused. He had been willing to see what happened as a mistake – a friendly but misplaced touch. Daejung’s reaction, however, made him rethink everything. If he so scared Haechan was going to tell someone, it was because it was _more_ than just a touch on the leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'll post the next chapter on Monday. 
> 
> Please drop me a comment and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clown that I am, I just got super excited thinking Seventeen's comeback was 00:00 KST. I was wrong. 
> 
> So, I finished up the next chapter and posted it. I hope you like it, sorry that it's a bit short! 
> 
> P.s. Are there any other multi-stans reading?? 
> 
> Chapter Three trigger warnings:groping and intimidation

“Hyung.” Someone poked him in the forehead and pain bloomed sharply.

“Ouch!”

Chenle snickered, dropping into the seat opposite Haechan. He and the others had just arrived for rehearsal on another music show, late as usual. “Did you bump your head?”

“Eh?”

Chenle gestured to his forehead. “You’ve got a lump.”

Haechan fished his phone from his pocket, switched on the front facing camera and stared at himself. “Oh… I guess so.”

“Who was it?” Chenle asked.

“Huh?”

“Who was it? Yuta-hyung? Mark-hyung? They’re going to be in so much trouble with the makeup noonas,” he added mischievously.

“Seriously. It looks that bad?”

“Well, you don’t look any worse than usual, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Chenle snickered.

“Aish, watch it or I’ll give you a lump on your forehead!”

* * *

Their performance that day went well. Haechan hadn’t managed to persuade any of his hyungs to come and join them but Doyoung felt so sorry he sent them a massive lunch.

That night, as usual, Haechan walked straight up to the back door of the van and swung it open.

The whole thing was filled with suitcases, the sort they used to transport their stage clothes.

“Hurry up,” Daejung said impatiently, rapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

Haechan slammed the door shut again and climbed into the front.

The journey passed once again in silence. Haechan was going to walk straight into Taeyong’s room, he decided, and tell him what happened. They might not be able to do anything about it – not if Daejung’s uncle was Lee Soo Man – but it would make him feel better.

They pulled up in front of the dorm and Haechan threw his seat belt off, grabbed his bag and - _the door was locked._

He flicked the lock and tried again. It still didn’t work. He huffed loudly. “Can you unlock the door?” As the words left his mouth, however, he realised it was obviously not a mistake.

Daejung turned the key in the ignition and silence filled the car.

Sweat broke out all over Haechan’s body.

Daejung turned in his seat. “I want you to call me oppa.”

Haechan stared at him, waiting for the joke. “What?”

“Call me oppa and I’ll let you out.”

Haechan shook his head. “You’re a fucking pervert.” He yanked at the door handle.

Daejung’s hand landed on his upper thigh and squeezed.

Haechan flung it off him. His heart was racing.

The silence stretched on endlessly, punctured only by Haechan’s breathing – which seemed unnaturally loud.

Daejung’s expression was unreadable, his face impassive. Looking at him, Haechan didn’t know what he might do, what he was capable of.

“Oppa,” he whispered.

A smile stretched across Daejung’s lips.

“Again.”

Haechan shook his head stubbornly.

Daejung reached towards him.

Haechan hit out at him and once more yanked at the door handle. “Let me out, you _arsehole!”_

Daejung chuckled. “You’re so cute, hmm? Just call me oppa and I’ll let you out, okay?”

Haechan pressed his forehead against the car window. In the reflection, he could see Daejung’s eyes on his face. He took a deep breath. “Oppa.”

“Yes?”

Haechan felt sick.

“What do you want oppa to do?” Daejung prompted.

“Let me out.”

“Again.”

“Oppa, please let me out.”

Haechan had never felt relief like the sound of the doors unlocking. He reached down and grabbed his bag.

But before he could open the door, Daejung’s fingers were wrapping around his wrist. Haechan dropped his bag again but it was too late.

Daejung bought his hand to his crotch and pressed it right _there,_ right where Haechan could feel how hard he’d got him.

Haechan yelled out, wrenching his arm free and fumbling for the door handle. He fell out of the car, hitting the ground hard and just managing to save his head from cracking open on the pavement.

He scrambled to his feet, barely remembering to grab his bag, before bolting inside without a backward glance.

* * *

He stopped outside his dorm, panting hard and shaking all over. When he was sure Daejung wasn’t following him, he leant back against the wall and tried to calm himself down.

The sound of the lifting moving made him jump. He didn’t wait to see who it was but shoved his key into the front door and rushed inside.

“Hey, how did it go!”

Haechan swallowed.

Doyoung was playing with his phone on the couch.

“Fine.” His voice broke.

“Only fine?” Doyoung said. “Hey, Haechan-ah?”

Haehcan was already walking past him, into his and Johnny’s room.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, pulled his pillow into his lap, buried his face in it and started to cry.

“Why, why, why?” Johnny said, pulling off his headphones in alarm. He once said that when Haechan cried it broke his heart and, though Haechan couldn’t see his face, he could hear it in his voice.

Haechan’s bed dipped as the bigger man climbed on. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Haechan’s back.

“What’s wrong?”

That was when Haechan realised he was already too ashamed to tell someone what had happened, what he had done. If only he had mentioned the thigh-touching. He definitely should have said something about his head being slammed into a fucking wall – that he could stomach. But _this_? This was too much. He didn’t even know _how_ to say it.

So, instead, he sobbed out, “I m-messed up on stage today.”

“ _What?”_ Johnny actually laughed, like the idea was ludicrous. “No, you didn’t. I watched it. What part? _Seriously_.”

“I sounded terrible,” Haechan croaked.

“Hey… Aren’t you fishing for compliments?” Johnny teased.

Haechan shook his head, still clutching the pillow.

“You sounded perfect. Seriously. Mark couldn’t stop talking about how great you were. Like pressing a button, you know, and this perfect voice comes out.” Johnny tried to pull the pillow away but Haechan tightened his hold.

“Hyung, will you come with me tomorrow?” Haechan said into it.

“Sure, I’ll come with you.”

“Even though it’s early?”

“Even though it’s early. Breakfast is on hyung, okay? I should get to see your rehearsal before I have to go to dance practice.”

Haechan hiccupped, sitting up and allowing Johnny to tug the pillow from his grasp.

“Now don’t cry so much,” Johnny said, ruffling his hair. “You’ll lose your lovely voice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'll be posting the next chapter on thurs/fri. 
> 
> Please leave a comment or drop me some kudos if you're wondering what happens next!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sunflowers!
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! 
> 
> A warning for this chapter: the first scene involves sexual assault. It is far longer than I originally intended and I really do apologise if anyone finds it difficult to read.
> 
> Trigger warnings for chapter four: sexual assault, threats of rape/non-con
> 
> You can’t have comfort without hurt so… I’m sorry!

“Johnny-ssi, ah sorry about the mess!” Daejung said the following morning, when he saw Johnny following Haechan to the van.

“Ah… what is all this?” Johnny said, peering into the back.

“More costumes. More suitcases. You know how it is. Don’t worry, these ones are all empty – I’m sure we can make space.”

They managed to create one space for Haechan to sit in the middle, though Johnny had to take the front seat.

Haechan could sense Daejung was trying to catch his eye but he ignored him.

As promised, Johnny bought the Dreamies breakfast and then, after rehearsal, Joowon suggested Daejung get some rest in the car.

“You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night,” Joowon said disapprovingly. 

So Daejung agreed and Haechan felt at ease for the first time in days, without Daejung’s gaze constantly lingering on him.

When he got to the van that night he was relieved to see all the suitcases had disappeared.

Haechan climbed right into the back of the seven-seater and sat in the corner, so there was no way Daejung could look at him.

“We need to stop for petrol,” Daejung said once they set off.

“You can’t do that after you’ve dropped me home?” Haechan grumbled.

“No.”

Haechan crossed his arms and slouched in his seat.

Daejung pulled into a petrol station about halfway through the journey and parked on the side of the building.

“I’ll be back in two minutes.”

Haechan frowned. _Why had he parked here and not at the refill?_ He sat up and peered out of the back window. _Because the petrol station was closed_. He watched Daejung walk up to a vending machine.

Haechan took out his phone. His hands were shaking. He brought up Mark’s number and pressed _call._

It rang straight through.

“For fuck’s sake,” Haechan muttered.

Suddenly, the back door swung open.

Haechan jumped about a foot in the air.

Daejung was climbing into the middle seat and slamming the door shut again. He was a silhouette in the dark of the car, his face in shadow. Choosing to sit in the back suddenly felt very stupid. More than just stupid. Daejung had set him a trap and Haechan had climbed straight into it.

“Oppa bought you an ice lolly.”

“I don’t want one,” Haechan said immediately.

There was a short pause. Then Daejung put the lolly down on the seat.

Something about that movement, how precisely he did it, made Haechan’s blood run cold. He undid his seatbelt.

Daejung was already lunging at him.

It was over so quickly, that was the worst part. He always knew he was the weakest one in 127 but this, _this_ couldn’t even be described as fight. He was helpless, completely helpless.

Daejung’s hands landed on his shoulders, propelling Haechan back against the leather seats. His knee was on his stomach. Haechan struggled but Daejung’s whole weight was on top of him.

He twisted one of Haechan’s arms beneath his body and used his weight to keep him pinned down. His fingers wrapped around Haechan’s other wrist, pushing it back against his chest.

With his free hand, Daejung fished the ice lolly from the middle seat. He had to rip it open with his teeth. He was in a hurry – it was melting.

Horrified, Haechan realised what he was going to do and turned his face as far away as possible.

Daejung just smeared it over his lips instead.

Haechan screamed behind grit teeth.

“Put it in your mouth.”

Haechan shook his head.

“Put in your mouth or oppa will give you the real thing.”

He didn’t need telling again. Haechan opened his mouth.

Daejung slid it inside. “Close your lips around it… good boy.”

Haechan whimpered.

“Look at me,” Daejung breathed. He released Haechan’s wrist and took him by the jaw, forcing Haechan’s face upwards.

Haechan was in such a state of shock that by the time he realised his hand was free, Daejung was already fastening his hand around it again. His nails dug into palm.

Daejung slid the lolly past his lips, again and again, forcing it back until Haechan choked.

He heard Daejung groan.

Tears started to fall from Haechan’s eyes. He didn’t want to close them but he couldn’t stand to see the way Daejung was looking at him. The lolly was melting, running down Haechan’s cheeks and jaw, into his hair, onto the seat.

It was hard to breathe with Daejung’s weight on top of him and harder still with that thing in his mouth. Daejung’s knees were a sharp pain in his stomach and on one of his legs. The arm trapped beneath him was causing him so much pain he feared it was injured.

“Suck,” Daejung said.

Haechan made a sound of protest.

“ _Suck.”_

Again, Haechan did as he was told.

Daejung released his wrist and laid a hand against his throat. He groaned.

This time, Haechan was ready. He smacked his hand away and punched him. He wanted to claw out Daejung’s eyes for witnessing this. He had never felt so much _anger_ , so much _hatred,_ so much _disgust_.

But he had just one hand and Daejung was twice his weight.

Daejung caught his wrist, twisting his arm until Haechan screamed in pain.

“Stop, stop, _stop!”_ he begged.

Daejung did.

They were both panting hard and now the ice lolly lay on the floor of the van, broken.

Daejung stared at it for a few moments then backhanded him.

Haechan’s head flew to the side. He was sobbing.

“Suck my fingers.”

“I’ll b-bite them off,” Haechan swore.

“Suck my fingers or I will fucking _rape_ you.” Spittle landed on Haechan’s cheeks as Daejung leaned over him. “I will rape you right here in the back of the van.”

Haechan had never been so terrified in his life. He turned back to face Daejung and opened his mouth obediently.

Daejung forced three fingers inside.

Haechan thought he was going to be sick or choke. He wanted the lolly back so desperately, compared to _this_ that strawberry flavoured lolly was nothing. _Please let it be over soon,_ he thought. _Please let it be over._

He thought his plea was granted when Daejung pulled his fingers free.

Haechan’s opened his eyes.

Daejung was fumbling with his fly, he was pulling out his cock, he was wrapping his fingers around it – fingers that were wet with Haechan’s spit.

“No!” Haechan cried out, renewing his struggles with a wild desperation. “No, no, no! Get off me!”

Daejung groaned, jerking his wrist, his eyes on Haechan’s face. “Fuck, yes.”

Then Daejung’s hand was covering Haechan’s mouth – the hand that had just been wrapped around himself.

Haechan’s screams were muffled underneath it.

“Lick it. Lick it. Oppa is so close.”

Haechan tossed his head from side to side, trying to dislodge his hand.

Suddenly, Daejung was pinching Haechan’s nose shut.

His lungs were already void of air from screaming. Haechan’s eyes widened and he started to thrash wildly. _He couldn’t breathe!_

“Lick it. Make it nice and wet for _oppa_.”

Haechan did as he was told, licking him again and again until Daejung withdrew his hand.

A few more quick strokes and Daejung was releasing loudly.

Haechan – who was gasping for air – managed to shut his mouth and eyes just in time. Daejung’s come landed on his cheeks, on his lips, on his eyelashes.

… But a faint click still managed to penetrate Haechan’s mind... it was the sound of a phone being unlocked.

Haechan’s eyes flew open. It was too late.

There was a flash and Daejung was sliding his phone back into his breast pocket, looking satisfied.

Haechan felt numb. Useless and used simultaneously.

Daejung climbed off him. He redid his trousers.

Haechan sat up gingerly, rubbing his shoulder.

“Clean yourself up.” Daejung reached into his backpack and tossed a pack of makeup wipes into his lap.

Haechan stared at them. Daejung had planned this, probably before they even left that morning.

He jumped when Daejung slid open the door, climbing out and returning to the front seat. He smoothed his hair back; checked his reflection in the rear-view mirror; then restarted the car.

Haechan ripped the pack of make up wipes open, using wipe after wipe to clean away the mess of tears, make up, juices and come. His hands were shaking. There were crescent marks on his palm where he’d dug his nails in, blood smeared across his palm.

When Daejung saw him scrub his tongue with a wipe he said, “cute.”

Haechan glared at him.

“Sort your hair out too.”

Shame coursed through him. He reached up and flattened his hair down. 

“And the back of the van, hmm? Clean up properly.”

“Do it yourself,” Haechan croaked.

Daejung chuckled, shaking his head. “Uri maknae…”

* * *

Dream’s last performance, the following day, was at Inkigayo.

Haechan stared into the bathroom mirror, hours before anyone else in the apartment was up. Daejung had left his mark on him – a clean handprint around his wrist.

 _Did his eyes look different too?_ He kind of thought so.

After getting home last night he had gone straight to the bathroom and showered. Then he had lain in bed, listening to Johnny’s breathing until it filled his head, until it sounded like it was above him, on top of him-

He moved to the living room and sat on the sofa. His hands were shaking violently. Eventually he went to the bathroom and made himself sick, anything to forget the taste of Daejung’s fingers in his mouth. He stayed there all night, counting down the hours until he would have to see Daejung again.

He didn’t sleep.

At 6am his phone buzzed. It was Jaehyun, telling him to hurry up.

Yes, Inkigayo meant one thing: Jaehyun was going to be there.

Haechan was so relieved, he hung off Jaehyun’s neck the whole time they were backstage. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, hyungie?” he cooed.

He wanted Daejung to see Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around him; he wanted him to know Haechan was untouchable.

So, after the show, when he saw Jaehyun pulling on his coat and chatting to a same-age-friend from another group, his stomach plummeted. 

“Hyung!” Haechan ran up to him, catching him at the stage door.

“Haechannie…” Jaehyun said. “Ah, I was going to text you. I’m going out with the 97’s.”

“What about me?”

“Er – I thought you might be tired,” Jaehyun said, which was his way of saying: _you’re not invited._

“ _No_ ,” Haechan protested. “You said you’d ride with me.” And then, before he knew it, he was crying. “You p-promised.”

Jaehyun gaped. “Haechannie – I – Why, why, why? There’s no need to cry.”

Haechan choked back a sob, utterly humiliated. _What was wrong with him? How could he be crying at work, in front of sunbaenims?_ He tried to turn away.

But Jaehyun just pulled him into a hug. “Baby, you must be so tired.” He patted his hair. “This is so unlike you.”

Haechan was about to agree but Daejung seemed to have followed him, for his voice was suddenly speaking from behind him.

“Why don’t I take you both? I can drop Haechan off first and then swing back and drop you off with your friends, Jaehyun-ssi?”

Jaehyun was still holding Haechan against his chest. If he noticed how Haechan’s fists clenched in the back of his coat, he didn’t mention it. “Okay, yeah...” He turned to his friend. “I’ll text you guys later, okay?”

* * *

Jaehyun encouraged to him sleep in the van but, though Haechan wanted to, he couldn’t. He was practically delirious with tiredness – the city lights beyond the window a blur of colour - and yet still he couldn't sleep.

Daejung looking at him pityingly throughout the whole can journey.

 _You did this!_ Haechan wanted to scream at him. _You did this and now you feel sorry, how dare you?_

Jaehyun walked him to the door. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Haechan felt exhaustion taking over now that he was away from Daejung. “It’s okay.”

“Okay, get some sleep.” Jaehyun ruffled his hair.

Haechan opened the door.

Mark was sitting on the sofa. He looked up and smiled at the sight of Haechan. “Hey, you’re back.” He beckoned Haechan over and Haechan moved as if pulled by a current. “Jaehyun-hyung texted me,” Mark said as Haechan dropped down next to him. “He said you had a rough day.”

Haechan nodded.

Mark pulled his head down on his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Haechan shook his head, his eyes fluttering close.

“Okay,” Mark toyed with his earlobe. “Um… were you sick last night?”

“Huh?” Speaking was costing Haechan an enormous amount of effort.

“Doyoung-hyung said he smelt something in the bathroom, he was worried.”

“Oh… right. Yeah, I think it was something I ate.”

Mark squeezed him tight. “You’re working so hard. I wish there was something I could do. But you need to tell someone if you’re not feeling well, okay? Haechan...? Haechan...?”

Haechan had finally fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I will post the next chapter over the weekend. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.
> 
> FYI Jaehyun’s same age friend, in my mind, is Mingyu from Seventeen but I decided not to name him – so he could also be Jungkook, Yugyeom, Eunwoo etc.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sunflowers!
> 
> Thanks for reading this far. Things are starting to unravel, there's light at the end of the tunnel!
> 
> Trigger warnings for chapter five: panic attacks and mentions of sexual assault/non-con

After the performance at Inkigayo, they had a bit of time off. The only major schedule was 127’s anniversary concert. Even though this meant he and Daejung were no longer forced into one-on-one environments, Haechan couldn’t shake the constant fear that something else was going to happen.

For starters, Daejung kept trying to catch him alone. It got to the point that Haechan couldn’t even go to the bathroom on his own.

_What if he hurt him again? What if he hurt him more, made true on his threat?_

Whenever they were in the same room together, Haechan found concentrating on other things extremely difficult. At other times, he lost focus, vividly imagining scenarios where he would tell someone what happened – their other managers, the members, even his mum. But each time he tried to picture how he would say it, how those words would leave his mouth, he drew up blank.

At first his teachers and members scolded him for not concentrating; then they tried to ask him what was wrong; then they became mad (Taeyong, Yuta) or disappointed (Doyoung, Taeil) or worried (Mark, Jaehyun, Johnny, Jungwoo).

Seeing his new level of exhaustion, the managers kept trying to come up with ways for Haechan to get more rest - _If he had his photoshoot first, then he could go and sleep in the van, couldn’t he?-_ which Haechan would have to manoeuvre out of.

Despite his tiredness, he wasn’t sleeping well and playing games until dawn was starting to get on Johnny’s nerves.

“Well, the sound of your breathing is getting on _my_ nerves,” Haechan snapped in the early hours of one morning.

Johnny stared at him. “You’re acting like a right brat, you know that,” he said. He tossed his duvet off. “I’m going to sleep on the sofa.”

Haechan was convinced they were all talking about him, which wouldn’t be surprising considering his suddenly short temper. He was irrationally mad at his hyungs for not realising something serious had happened, even though he did his best to hide it.

One such time happened with Yuta, when the elder bought back hotteok.

“Dongsaeng, ahh,” Haechan said, leaning towards him with his mouth open.

“Aegyo,” Yuta requested with a cheeky smile.

Haechan shook his head. “Dongsaeng, _ahh,”_ he repeated.

“No aegyo, no hotteok,” Yuta replied and popped the last of it in his mouth.

Haechan stood up, pushing the table hard enough to knock over someone’s drink. “Or don’t share. Fine. Whatever.”

“Ya,” Yuta shouted as Haechan stormed out of the upstairs apartment. “I’m your hyung.”

“Some hyung!” Haechan yelled, slamming the door shut.

But the worst news was yet to come. Mark and Taeyong would be flying to America for two weeks.

Haechan cried so hard that night he thought he’d never stop. He didn’t want Mark to go. He didn’t want Taeyong to go either, but that he thought he could live with. Mark gone left him like a ship without anchor, a ship without anchor tossed in a storm.

He didn’t tell Mark that specific part but he clung to Mark so much in the following days the others actually grew bored of teasing him about it.

Later, when they were alone in their dorm, however, Doyoung scolded him for stressing Mark out.

“You know how burdened he feels about the US trip,” he reasoned. “Why ask him to stay when he has no control over his schedule?”

 _Precious Mark,_ Haechan thought, _if it were Mark the others would have noticed something was wrong by now. It was always Mark, Mark, Mark-_

“He’s worried about you, you know. I know he didn’t want to show it, but you really upset him.”

_-if he was big like Johnny it wouldn’t have even happened to him; if he was respected like Taeyong it wouldn’t have happened. It was like Daejung had picked off the weakest, the runt of the litter-_

“Haechan?” Doyoung touched his shoulder.

Haechan flinched. His cup noodles fell from his numb fingers and splattered over the floor.

“Ah, _really_!” Haechan said, throwing Doyoung an accusatory look.

Doyoung stared.

Haechan busied himself cleaning up. “Are you going to help or just stare?” he snapped.

Doyoung did help. He even bought Haechan another cup of noodles after the maknae had stormed into his room.

“You know if somethings wrong you can tell me, right?” Doyoung said, hovering by the door and, since he seemed to be waiting for an answer, Haechan rolled over and muttered: “have you had a look at my schedule lately? I’m allowed to be tired, don’t you think?”

/ \

The night before Mark and Taeyong were due to fly, NCT 127 had their anniversary concert.

As usual, saesangs lurked around their apartment as they got into their cars.

“Ya, don’t you have a life?” Haechan called angrily.

Taeyong grabbed his elbow, pulling him towards the van. “Hey, no more antagonising saesangs, remember?”

Haechan scowled, climbing into the middle seat. Johnny tried to get him to switch to the back, owing to his long legs, but Haechan refused.

Later on, when Jungwoo saw Haechan’s stage make up, he whined, “where have Hyuckie’s cute cheeks gone!”

“Sexy!” Mark complimented. “Sexy.” He gave Haechan the thumbs up.

But Haechan felt self-conscious in a way he never felt before. _He’d forgotten how to act normally._

“Aw, he’s shy!” Jungwoo cooed, pinching one of his cheeks.

Haechan was quiet the whole time leading up to the performance, prompting each member to ask if he was okay at least once. Since he was their mood maker, when he wasn’t bouncing around and acting cute _everyone_ seemed to notice.

This was his first time meeting so many fans since the incident. And, as they took their places in the under stage, Haechan found all these new thoughts were suddenly swirling around his head.

What if one of the fans looked at him and could… could _tell._ What if she saw something in him, that was also true for herself? She might recognise the signs. She might see the shame on him. There were 22,000 people out there. What if he let his guard down for a moment and they could see it in his eyes? What if they took a picture and they captured it, just like Daejung had done?

Mark was trying to get his attention. He wanted to do their special handshake.

Haechan blinked.

Mark gave up, taking a step closer. “Hey, Hyuck – are you okay?”

Haechan nodded.

The scream of the fans seemed to be growing closer. The sound of his members breathing in his in-ear made him want to throw up.

Mark took his hand. “Hyuck. What it is? Are you nervous?”

Haechan wasn’t nervous. No, that wasn’t how he would put it – his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. But: “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Just… just… nervous.”

Mark’s brows drew in, clearly seeing something Haechan had yet to realise. He turned and shouted, “hey, hey! Bring an oxygen mask!”

“What?” Someone called back in confusion.

 _“An oxygen mask!”_ Mark repeated.

Haechan didn’t protest. It _was_ hard to breath. Really, really hard actually.

Someone took the back of his head and put a mask to his mouth.

Haechan had never used one before but other members, including Mark, had.

“Slow down,” Mark said. “You’re breathing too fast. Haechannie, seriously.”

The medic was telling him the same thing.

“One minute to show down!”

Daejung’s pale face swam out of the darkness.

Haechan’s breathing quickened further – he didn’t like the oxygen mask over his mouth it reminded him… reminded him-

He swayed. Black spots erupted at the edge of his vision – he was going to faint.

Mark’s voice rose in panic. “Can someone get him a chair!?”

Someone wheeled over a flight case and Haechan was guided on top. There were so many people surrounding him.

“What’s happening?” Taeyong said, pushing to the front.

“I don’t know!”

The medics tried to push them back but Haechan’s fingers tangled with Mark’s. They were telling him to breath, trying to get him to look in their eyes, trying to get him to count.

“In – _one… two… three… four… five…”_

Daejung was there. His hand landed on Haechan’s knee and squeezed.

 _“_ Out _– one… two… three… four… five…”_

Haechan was crushing Mark’s fingers.

“Thirty seconds!”

“You’re going to have to go up without him,” the show director said.

“But what’s going on!” Mark sounded frantic.

“Can you give him some space, _please!”_ one of the medics exclaimed.

“Mark, Taeyong – you need to be in position.”

Taeyong let himself be pulled away, throwing anxious looks back at Haechan. The other members were staring at the scene in alarm, the whites of their eyes glowing in the under-stage gloom.

“10, 9, 8-”

Haechan pulled the mask away. “Mark-hyung, please d-don’t go!” he begged, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Mark had never looked so helpless. Tears sprung to his eyes. “Haechan – but I _have_ to-”

“Please!” Haechan cried.

“3, 2, 1!”

The other members tore their gazes away.

“Hyung, _please!”_

Mark yanked his hand free and ran after them.

/ \

Haechan didn’t know how long it took to calm him down, just that he had to do it with Daejung’s hands on him.

Eventually, the medics’ words got through to him.

_In – one, two, three, four, five and out – one, two, three, four, five._

_In – one, two, three, four, five and out – one, two, three, four, five._

_In – one, two, three, four, five and out – one, two, three, four, five._

They took him into one of the backstage rooms and – admittedly – he started to feel a lot better when he realised he wasn’t going to have to perform.

One of the hair and makeup noonas bought him a heating pad and a cushion and he sat with it hugged to his chest.

Woosung – their most senior manager – was suggesting Daejung drive Haechan back now, returning to the venue in time to pick up the others.

“I want to stay here,” Haechan said in a small voice.

Woosung sighed. “You’ll feel better after a good nights sleep, Haechan-ah.”

Haechan shook his head. “I want to wait for my members.”

“Okay, alright, that’s decided then.” Woosung nodded to the door and spoke to the medics. “Shall we continue outside, hmm? Let him rest. Daejung, you stay with him.”

Once again, Haechan was left along with Daejung.

The elder wandered over to him. “Haechannie, I want to show you something.” He held his phone out. “It’s on my phone.”

Haechan looked up at him.

Daejung waved it at him until Haechan took it. What he saw made him drop it.

It was a picture. Of him. Tear tracks, smeared eyeshadow, strawberry juice and come.

He picked up the phone, shaking all over, and deleted the picture.

Daejung pulled the phone from his numb fingers. “You deleted it? Good boy. Can’t have that on my phone. Much safer to keep it on the cloud.”

Haechan squeezed his eyes shut. “What do you want?”

Daejung sat down next to him.

“Donghyuck-ah,” he crooned.

Haechan clenched his jaw. It was the first time he had called Haechan by his real name. It made his skin crawl.

“I feel bad about…. what happened between us. You’re so young, it’s natural to feel… overwhelmed.”

Haechan snorted, refusing to look at him.

“Look – I’ll make you a promise. I’ll keep my hands off you-” he held his hands up mockingly “-as long as _you_ keep quiet, hmm?”

Haechan’s mind was spinning. Daejung didn’t feel _bad_ , he was _scared_. He had taken things too far and he was scared Haechan was going to say something. Even Lee Soo Man’s nephew wasn’t invincible.

“And I’ve given my position as your manager some thought and, well, I’ve handed in my two-week notice.”

That caught Haechan off guard. He looked up at him in shock.

“That might be the first time I’ve seen you smile in two weeks,” Daejung said. “So, you need to keep it together, alright? Having these little… panic attacks is going to make people ask questions.” He tilted his head. “I know what you’re thinking… but let me remind you that it’s your word against mine. I mean – what did I do _really?”_

Haechan clutched at the cushion in his lap. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear Daejung talk about what he had done as though it was _nothing._ As though Haechan didn’t feel sick to his stomach every time he remember-

“You sucked on a lolly. You called me _oppa.”_

Haechan flinched.

“That’s all.” Daejung’s voice was soft.

“You hit me,” Haechan whispered.

“Did I? I don’t remember that.”

“Y-you said you would… you threatened to-”

“Hush, now, you’ll upset yourself again.” Daejung pet his hair and a shiver of revulsion ran down Haechan’s spine. “Like I said, it’s your word against mine and you’ve got a lot more to lose than I do…” Daejung’s voice hardened. “If word gets out, I will post this picture all over the internet. Your fans will call you cumslut before they call you Full Sun-”

Haechan jumped to his feet, letting the cushion tumble to the ground. He was halfway to the door when it was flung open and Mark burst into the room. Sweat was pouring past his temples and his in-ear swung wildly behind his back. It must be the opening ment. Normally, all members stayed on stage but Mark had rushed back down to check on him.

“Haechan-ah, Haechan-ah,” he murmured, like he was in a daze. He closed the space between them in two strides and wrapped his arms around Haechan’s trembling body. He stroked his hair. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “You know I had to go, right?”

Haechan pressed his face into Mark’s neck, despite the sweat. There was a lump in his throat but he nodded.

Mark squeezed him tight then pulled back. “Hey? What’s gotten into you?”

Haechan swallowed. “The medics said I’m dehydrated.”

“What?” Mark’s eyes flicked towards Daejung and back again. “You had a panic attack because you’re dehydrated?”

Haechan laughed weakly. “No, I had a panic attack because… I… I felt like I was going to faint and it freaked me out. Aish, good thing you’re not a doctor, hyung.”

“Okay…” Mark said doubtfully. His gaze strayed, again, to Daejung and he frowned. “If you’re feeling better, why don’t you watch the concert from the café?” He kept his arm around Haechan, guiding him from the room. “I told you that manager gives me the creeps. I really don’t like the way he looks at you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this far! 
> 
> I hope you like the second-to-last chapter!
> 
> Trigger warnings for Chapter Six: mentions of sexual assault/non-con/violence

When Haechan woke up the following morning, Johnny seemed to be waiting for him.

“Hey, Hyuckie. How’re you feeling?”

“Okay…” Haechan mumbled. He pushed his face into his pillow.

“Wait, don’t go back to sleep,” Johnny said. “I wanna show you something.”

“What…?”

Johnny was holding out his phone.

Haechan sat up abruptly, filled with sudden dread. He was confused, however, to see a video of their apartment block with one of their vans pulled up outside.

Then, as he watched, the door was flung open and he tumbled out, narrowly avoiding cracking his head on the pavement. He watched himself reach back into the van, grab his bag from the floor, scramble to his feet and run inside like his life depended on it.

Haechan read the caption.

_I know we shouldn’t repost stuff from saesangs BUT people need to see this!! Which manager scared uri maknae. I just wanna talk._

“That’s you, isn’t it?” Johnny said.

_The saesangs from yesterday,_ Haechan thought, _of course they’d release something like this after he shouted at them._

“Donghyuck-ah?”

“I guess I… really needed the toilet that night,” Haechan said.

“What?” Johnny said, confused. “No. This is the night you were crying in our room. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” Haechan’s voice sounded distant. “I messed up a bit of the choreo.”

Johnny stared at him. “No… you said you messed up some of your _lines_. I know because I remember thinking, _aish, this kid. He could never sing badly.”_

Haechan was still staring at the video.

Johnny moved onto Haechan’s bed, sitting down in front of him. He reached out, covering the phone with one huge hand. “Haechan. Did something else happen?”

He didn’t know what made him say it, maybe all it took was someone asking him directly, but it felt like this was the moment Haechan had been waiting for. Two weeks ago, the idea of admitting what happened that night was humiliating. Since then, he had experienced so much worse. “He made me call him oppa,” Haechan whispered.

There was a pause. “ _What?”_

Haechan swallowed.

“Who did?” Johnny demanded. “Daejung?

Haechan nodded.

Johnny pulled his hand way, raking it through his hair. “What a _fucking_ pervert! He asked you – _for real!_ He asked you to call him – What a creep!”

He stopped ranting and saw that Haechan’s gaze had returned to the video: falling out of the van, scrambling to his feet; tearing inside without a backwards glance. Real fear, caused by more than just a request to be called _oppa._

“What else did he do?” Johnny said in a low voice.

Haechan squeezed his eyes shut and thrust the phone back at Johnny.

Johnny dropped it on the bed and took Haechan’s hands.

“Seriously, Hyuckie, you’re scaring me. What else did he do?”

“He-he-he threatened to… to…”

“…To what?”

Haechan shook his head.

“To hit you?” Johnny guessed.

“No,” Haechan gasped, “he did hit me. He - he threatened t-to-” He jerked his hands free and flung an arm over his face. “ _I_ _can’t_ _say_ _it_.”

“Donghyuck-ah, please, _please_ tell me,” Johnny begged, gripping his shoulders. “Tell me so I can do something about it-”

“He said he would rape me.” The words escaped him before he could stop them.

There was a moment of terrible silence and Donghyuck dropped his arm, afraid of what he would see.

Johnny’s face was a mask of horror.

Then: _“He said what!”_ bellowed a third voice and Taeyong burst into the room.

Whatever Haechan was feeling was suddenly overwhelmed by a fury of his own.

“He said _what_ to you?” Taeyong demanded.

“You were eavesdropping!?” Haechan yelled. He tried to get up but Johnny was still gripping him. That was when he spotted Mark, framed in the doorway and looking shellshocked. He rounded on Johnny. “You’re supposed to be my hyung!”

Johnny let go as if he’d burned himself.

“You set me up!”

“Haechanie, I’m sorry-”

Haechan wanted to storm out but, before anyone could do or say anything else, his phone started ring.

He stopped.

One by one, their gazes landed on it where it sat, innocently charging on his bedside table.

Daejung was calling him.

Everyone stared.

Then Taeyong bent down and picked it up.

Haechan lunged at him, trying to wrestle the phone from his hands before he could answer it. “No, no, no. Don’t tell him you know. Don’t tell him-”

“Let me talk to him,” Taeyong started. “That arsehole, I’ll fucking-”

“He has a picture!” Haechan blurted out.

Taeyong’s grip loosened abruptly and Haechan pulled the phone free.

“A picture,” Johnny repeated. “O-of what?”

Mark, who looked like he was still trying to process Haechan’s first confession, was looking helplessly from Haechan to their hyungs.

The phone rang again, saving Haechan from having to answer. They watched it ring through before Haechan put it on silent.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said eventually. “He has one.”

“Of what, how… how bad is it?” Taeyong asked.

Haechan was trembling. “It’s bad,” he whispered and sank back onto his bed.

Taeyong sat down next to him and Mark finally moved into the room, circling round to Johnny’s bed.

“Do you have it? Can you show us?” Johnny said.

Haechan shook his head, refusing to look at them, though he could feel their gazes boring into him.

The phone lit up again. Daejung was calling him for a third time.

Mark clenched his jaw. The tendons on Taeyong’s arm were bulging the way they only did when he was angry.

“He must have seen that video. He’s worried I’m going to say something,” Haechan muttered once the phone stopped ringing.

They all saw the text when it arrived.

_Just a reminder. [Image attached]_ \- Daejung Manager (who I hate).

“That fucking arsehole,” Taeyong snarled. ~~~~

But Haechan felt as though his whole world was crashing down around him. He sucked back a sob and the words spilled out involuntarily: “The picture…he took it after he – after he…” He dropped his face into his hands and started to cry for real.

“You can tell us, Haechanie,” Johnny whispered. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us.”

Mark moved onto Haechan’s bed and wrapped his arms around him.

Haechan took a few deep breathes and gripped Mark’s hands where they were locked around his middle. “He f-forced me to suck a lolly. He climbed on top of me in the backseat of the van and he forced me to suck on it. Then he made me suck his fingers, he cut off my air until I would do it, he said he’d rape me if I didn’t do it and then he…” He squeezed his shut. “He fucking came on my face,” finished weakly.

There was a long silence.

Mark let out a sob. He was holding on so tight it hurt, like if he let go Haechan would disappear. “Haechan, I told you,” he croaked, “I _told_ you to tell me if anything happened with him.”

“He was scared, Mark,” Johnny said, a hint of reproach in his voice.

“You must have been so scared, Hyuck,” Taeyong whispered, smoothing down his hair.

Haechan dragged his sleeve under his eyes. “No, I sh-should have told someone. I was so embarrassed when he made me call him _oppa._ I thought if you guys knew, I thought that was the worst thing. But what he did next” – his voice broke. “And - and now he has a picture and there’s n-nothing I can do about it.”

“Nothing?” Taeyong repeated. He shook his head. “No. No way. We’re not gonna do _nothing.”_

“But he promised he’d stop,” Haechan protested, shaking his head frantically. “Hyung, he’ll put this on social media. Everyone will see it. _Everyone_.”

“But-”

“And he’s handed in his notice,” Haechan continued. “He’s leaving in two weeks.”

“Okay but…” Taeyong was clearly searching for the right words. “Say we keep it a secret. Someone from the company is going to ask you about this video. What are you going to say?”

“I dunno.” Haechan wiped his eyes. “I’ll say I was desperate for the bathroom.”

“Haechannie, you don’t have to tell the company,” Mark insisted. “We’ll tell them,”

“Tell who! He’s Lee Soo Man’s nephew!”

They gaped at him, identical expressions of shock written across their faces. “No, he’s not!”

Haechan felt a moment of dizziness. He looked from one, to the other and saw the pity on their faces. “What?”

Johnny squeezed his hand. “He’s not Lee Soo Man’s nephew,” he said gently.

Haechan’s mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, then he dropped his gaze and muttered, “I’m so _stupid_.”

“Leave it with hyung,” Taeyong said, standing up.

“ _No_ , nothing changes the fact that he has a _picture,”_ Haechan said, his temper flaring. In some absurd way he wanted to feel trapped, it meant what had happened to him was unavoidable.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Taeyong sank back onto the bed. His eyes darted from side to side as he thought. “Okay, what about the picture – is there anything incriminating in it? Anything that could prove it was him?”

Haechan was exhausted – he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to _think_ about it. He leaned his full weight against Mark. “I haven’t looked at it. Not properly.”

“Can you try, Hyuckie?” Taeyong said gently.

Haechan chewed his nail and shook his head.

“Do you want hyung to look at it?”

There was a long silence.

_His hyungs were just trying to help,_ he told himself. Haechan sighed and picked up his phone. He unlocked it, brought up the picture – without looking at it - and passed it to Taeyong.

Taeyong hesitated, swallowing thickly, then looked down. He had to visibly force himself to calm down.

For once, Mark and Johnny were staring at someone other than him, no doubt wondering what Taeyong was seeing.

But, eventually, Taeyong let out a breath of relief. “He’s got a tattoo.”

Haechan sat up straight. “Seriously?”

Taeyong tried to show him but he recoiled, into Mark, who tightened his arms protectively.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just – Haechannie. It’s right there – it’s-” He broke off.

The phone was ringing again.

“Is it him?” Mark asked.

Johnny reached out and took Haechan’s hands again.

“Answer it,” he said.

“ _Don’t.”_ Haechan’s hands were sweating but Johnny held them all the same.

They let it ring through once more.

Taeyong pushed a hand through his hair. He was about to speak when Haechan’s phone lit up.

Daejung had left voicemail.

Taeyong looked at him.

Haechan held out his hand Taeyong passed the phone back, looking reluctant. He untangled himself from their arms and stood up, moving to the desk and taking a seat. He took a deep breath, then pressed play.

_Donghyuck-ie. Hyung is worried about you. I can see you’re online, why don’t you answer? Hyung has this picture and he thinks he might send it to Jisungie or, maybe, Taeil? What do you think – maknae or eldest?_

Haechan felt like someone had thrown cold water all over him. He jumped up, crossed back to the bed and thrust the phone at Taeyong.

Taeyong took it back, looking startled.

Mark pulled him down again, holding him tight.

Though Taeyong didn’t put the phone on loudspeaker, they all heard the message play through again.

“I don’t want to speak to him,” Haechan said tearfully.

Taeyong nodded. His thumb moved to the call button.

It rang twice.

“Donghyuck-ah?”

“No.” Taeyong glanced at Johnny, eyes wide. “It’s Taeyong.”

“Oh.”

Taeyong took a deep breath and his gaze hardened. “You know that picture you sent Donghyuck? It has your tattoo in it. It has your _fucking_ tattoo in it, it has your watch in it, it has the staff wristband in it. It’s you. It’s evidence. So what are you gonna do with it? Put it on the internet, are you that stup-” He stopped, pulling the phone away from his ear. “He hung up.”

“Hyung, wah,” Mark breathed. “Daebak.”

Fury passed over Taeyong’s face. He pressed _call_ and stood up. He left the room, shutting the door hard behind himself.

They all heard him yelling through the door.

“Why don’t you answer? Huh? You understand what will happen if you do anything with that picture, don’t you? You’ll be signing your own prison sentence. I’d delete if I were you. Did you really think you’d get away with this? You’re never gonna get near him again!”

When he returned, Haechan was gaping at him.

Taeyong held his phone out. Daejung, the coward, had texted him.

_Please don’t show anyone that picture._

Haechan blinked, hardly believing what he was seeing. He’d gone from threatening to show the whole world, to begging Haechan not to. Sending Haechan that picture was the biggest mistake he ever made.

“What on earth is taking so long!” A new voice called from the living room. “Did you forget we’re flying to LA today?”

Woosung, their most senior manager, appeared in the doorway.

Taeyong looked at Haechan. Haechan nodded.

Taeyong shoved the phone in Woosung’s face.

He stared at it for all of half a second, then did a full body flinch. “What is this?”

“That’s a picture taken by one your _fucking_ managers after he attacked Haechan in the back of the van.”

Reluctantly, Woosung looked at it again.

“That’s his tattoo, that’s his cheap watch, his Music Bank Staff wristband. That’s his fucking-” he broke off, his hands curling in fists.

_That’s his come on Haechan’s face,_ Haechan finished.

Woosung was very pale. Before saying anything else, however, he turned and crouched down. “Donghyuck, are you okay?”

“He _hit_ him and _suffocated_ him,” Taeyong said through grit teeth. 

“Do you need me to call a doctor?” Woosung continued.

“It happened a week ago,” Haechan muttered. “I’m fine.” 

Woosung nodded. He spoke gently, as though to a wounded animal. “Who was it?”

“Daejung.”

“I’m gonna take care of this, okay?” Woosung promised. “I don’t want you to worry about him anymore.”

Haechan’s eyes prickled with tears. He didn’t trust himself to speak so he just nodded.

“You still look like you need some rest. Why don’t you try and get some sleep, okay? Don’t worry about your schedules.”

“Okay,” Haechan whispered.

Woosung stood up and nodded towards the living room. Taeyong, still radiating anger, stalked out of the room.

“Mark?”

Haechan felt Mark give a small shake of his head.

Johnny left also, shutting the door behind himself.

“Hyuck,” Mark said softly. “Hyuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Haechan whispered, turning in his arms and burying his face in Mark’s shoulder. “I just want it to be over.”

Mark held him tight. “It will be.”

Taeyong knocked on the door half an hour later. He was, of all things, smiling. “Hey, Hyuckie. I thought this might cheer you up a bit – they’ve postponed mine and Mark’s trip. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment if you liked this chapter! I hope this was what everyone was waiting for!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sunflowers!
> 
> Here is the last chapter, thanks for reading this far! It's a long one this one :) 
> 
> I've never written non-romance before so I hope you guys like it! I definitely want to write some Markhyuck or Jaehyuck for real next time 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Trigger Warnings for Final Chapter: mentions of sexual assualt/non-con/violence

Taeyong really was the best leader ever.

Over the next few days, he sat with Haechan through every meeting – and there were many, many meetings. He held Haechan’s hand under the table as he explained in detail what Daejung had done that night, and the nights leading up to it. He sided with Haechan when Haechan refused to look at the picture. He insisted that new managers never be left alone with members again, that cameras be installed in the vans, that the manager’s phones be searched, their van GPS tracked.

Taeyong was such a great leader… but Haechan wasn’t thrilled with this idea.

“I don’t want the other members to know,” Haechan whispered. Doyoung was in his bedroom so he kept his voice low, he could hear most conversations that took place in Taeyong’s room.

“They’re worried about you-”

“I just don’t, okay?” Haechan snapped.

Taeyong was silent for a while. “You know, Woosung-hyung says you should see a therapist-”

“No.”

“Donghyuck…”

“I trying to pretend it didn’t happen. How can I do that if I’m busy telling everyone I ever met what happen-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Taeyong said, placatingly.

Haechan sighed. It had been a long day. He felt that this secret was growing between him and his other members. They didn’t understand why Haechan was suddenly quiet and often emerged from bathrooms looking like he’d recently been crying, why he refused to sit in the back of the van, why he wasn’t acting cute for them. 

They knew something was wrong, something big. First there was Haechan’s panic attack, then the video (the others all saw it), then Mark and Taeyong’s trip being postponed, then Daejung being fired, then their locks being changed.

He found that he could snap at them, whine at them, rage at them and they just let him. He overheard Yuta worrying that maybe Haechan’s mother was sick, to which Jungwoo asked why he would be keeping that a secret.

So Taeyong’s suggestion wasn’t bad or unexpected but Haechan had his reasons all the same.

Later that evening, Taeil poked his head around the door to Haechan’s room. “Haechanie, shall we eat meat and go to the karaoke? Hyung’s treat?”

Haechan looked up from his phone – he had been monitoring old fancams.

Taeil looked hopeful.

“Um… No. That’s okay.”

“Are you sure? We’re all going. There’s gonna be samgyeopsal…”

Haechan mustered up a smile. “I’m tired, hyung. Next time, okay?”

Taeil hid his disappointment, his worry. “Okay. I’ll see you later.” He disappeared.

He heard them all leaving. _He’d join them next time,_ he told himself, _just as soon as Daejung was arrested._

There was a knock on his bedroom door, surprising him. Mark appeared, barefaced and spectacled and grinning sheepishly.

“Hey, Hyuck, I thought I’d keep you company.”

“You don’t want barbeque?”

“I already ate.”

Haechan didn’t believe him but he pulled his legs toward himself all the same, making room for Mark.

Mark sat down in front of him, crossing his legs.

“What’s taking so long?” Haechan muttered.

“Huh?”

“Why is it taking so long? Why hasn’t _he_ been arrested yet?”

Mark sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

“Woosung-hyung said don’t worry-”

“-Yeah, that would be a lot easier if that asshole wasn’t still walking around!” Mark exclaimed.

“Exactly!” Haechan said.

There was a moment of silence.

“Don’t you think you should tell the others-”

Haechan groaned. “ _No_! Can you and Taeyong-hyung and Johnny-hyung just _stop_ asking-”

“But why not?”

Haechan suppressed a wave of irritation but he took a deep breath and answered truthfully. “I don’t want them to think of me like that.”

Mark frowned. “Like what?”

Haechan toyed with the fray in his jeans. “Like a victim.”

“But it’s not your fault-”

When Haechan spoke, his voice was barely audible. “A sexual abuse victim.”

Mark didn’t flinch. “It’s still not your fault.”

Haechan was silent.

“D-do you feel like it is-”

“I didn’t _ask_ for it to happen _-_ ”

“I didn’t say you did,” Mark said quickly, “but, like, I know sometimes you can feel-”

“You know?” Haechan scoffed. “You know so much about it, do you?”

Mark turned red. “I looked some stuff up on the internet.”

Haechan glared at him. “He said I acted-” The words caught in his throat and he dropped his gaze. He remembered how creeped out Mark was by the idea of Haechan showing Daejung aegyo. “He said I acted cute for him.”

“He’s a pervert, of course he said-”

“I did though,” Haechan whispered. “I acted cute for him.”

“Like that gives him the right to-”

“I didn’t say it did!” Haechan’s voice rose and he threw his hands in the air. “Hyung, you’re not helping, you’re just making me feel worse! I’m not saying I think it’s my fault or I think I deserved it but – but how _stupid_ did I have to be? I trusted him. I thought: that can’t happen to me and I got in that fucking van again and again. I believed he was Lee Soo Man’s nephew. If I’d asked literally anybody else, they could have told me that wasn’t true. This wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t so – so _stupid,_ if I wasn’t so _weak,_ if I wasn’t so – if I wasn’t the cute maknae! _”_

Mark’s eyes were very wide and Haechan realised he’d been yelling. Then Mark’s gaze hardened and his palm flattened on the mattress between them.

“Haechan. He did what he did because he is a _pervert,_ because he is sick-”

Haechan spoke over him. “Because I was an easy target who kept his mouth shut after he touched me when I was sleeping, after having my head slammed into a wall, after being made to call him oppa and touch his hard-on. Until he managed to get his picture.”

Mark didn’t have a response to that.

“Maybe I was right, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Haechan muttered, falling back against the headboard. His shook his head bitterly. “He was leaving the company; I could have kept it a secret.”

“What?” Mark said, aghast. “Why would you think that? Haechan, telling us was the right thing to do. I mean, aren’t you glad me and Taeyong-hyung and Johnny-hyung know?”

Haechan’s silence was all the answer he needed.

“Oh.” Mark leant back. “I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel like that. I guess it’s hard to know, like, how to act around you-”

Haechan shook his head. “No, it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just – If this gets out, we’ll always be that group with the member who was-” he swallowed “-sexually assaulted… It would ruin us.” 

Mark opened his mouth to protest.

“You know it would, hyung. It would ruin – not just mine – but _everyone’s_ career. 127’s and Dream’s-”

“It’s not going to get out,” Mark said confidently.

“But if it _does,”_ Haechan insisted. His voice grew smaller and smaller. “The members – What if they… What if they think I should have just let-let it happen?”

“Are you kidding?” Mark said, horrified. He reached out and gripped Haechan’s hands. “Haechannie, do you really think that?” His voice was suddenly thick with tears. “Do you really think for even _one_ second that any of us would think that?”

Haechan shrugged helplessly. “B-but it would be my fault.”

“So, you should have just let it happen, to protect NCT’s reputation? Are you kidding?”

Haechan pulled his hands free. “Aren’t I overreacting anyway? I mean what did he do, really?”

“What he did sounds pretty terrible to me,” Mark said in a low voice. He hesitated, his eyes searching Haechan’s face. “D-did _he_ say that to you?”

Haechan felt his cheeks heat up.

“Did he say you were overreacting?”

Haechan couldn’t look at him. Daejung hadn’t said those exact words but he’d implied it and Haechan, like the stupid boy he was, had started to believe him.

“Okay…” Mark said. He sounded irritated, though Haechan knew it was at Daejung. “So, if he did to _me_ what he did to _you_ , would you say that _I_ was overreacting?”

Haechan shook his head. A lump was rising in his throat, tears stinging his eyes.

Mark’s voice softened. “Haechannie, you’re allowed to feel however you want to feel – what he did was sick… But you _can’t_ feel guilty, or whatever, because it didn’t turn out worse. Like it _could_ have done if you didn’t tell us.” He reached out and gripped Haechan’s shoulder, though Haechan kept his gaze on his frayed jeans. “Haechan, I promise you: no one blames you for what happened. If you decide to tell the others, they won’t blame you either because it’s not your fault, okay?”

Haechan opened his mouth but it was Mark’s turn to cut him off.

“Seriously, Haechannie. It’s the other way around.” He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. “If you hated us for not protecting you, that would be okay. I-I would understand.”

Haechan stared at him. “What?”

Mark looked guilty and when he spoke it was in a rush. “I know how I feel isn’t important, okay? Johnny-hyung says I’m being selfish… But I can’t stop thinking about the concert. He was right _there_ and I left you with him. We all just turned our backs and left you with him.”

Haechan shook his head. “You didn’t know.”

“But I _should_ have known,” Mark said. “I could see how scared you were. I should have known. And on the night – at the petrol station – you called me didn’t you?” He looked like he was afraid of the answer.

Haechan had forgotten that. He looked away and nodded.

“Was it before…?”

Haechan felt a tear slip down his cheek. He nodded again.

Mark’s eyes were wrung with pain. His mouth moved wordlessly.

“If you’d answered I don’t know if it would have changed anything,” Haechan whispered. “He planned it; he planned every move.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mark croaked.

Haechan shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak so he leant over and threw his arms around Mark’s neck.

“Please just believe me,” Mark sobbed, clinging to the back of his t-shirt, his voice muffled in Haechan’s shoulder. “Me and Taeyong-hyung and Johnny-hyung, we don’t think any of the stuff you said, okay? I’m glad you told me. I don’t think any less of you. I don’t blame you.”

“I just don’t want to tell the others,” Haechan said. “I c-can’t risk it, okay?”

“Okay,” Mark said. “But you believe me, right?”

“Yeah, I believe you,” Haechan whispered. “Aish, hyung, promise me you’ll never become a therapist, okay?” He tried to pull back but Mark held on tighter.

“Okay but can you make me a promise back?”

“What?”

“See a real therapist, Hyuckie?”

Haechan actually laughed, albeit tearfully. “Okay, I will.”

They pulled back and wiped their eyes.

“By the way, I don’t blame you either – any of you,” Haechan said, “so get that idea out of your head, Mark Lee. You were the only thing,” he felt his cheeks turn red, “the only thing keeping me anchored.”

Mark just nodded, he understood.

After that, Haechan didn’t know what else to say. Thankfully, Mark broke the silence.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Eh?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Mark repeated.

Haechan raised his eyebrows. “I thought you already ate.”

“Yeah but I’d kill for some samgyeopsal… Didn’t Taeil-hyung say he’s paying?”

Haechan started to smile. “For _me._ He never said he’d pay for you.”

Mark grinned. “Brat! C’mon, if we go now we can make it for the best bit of the barbeque.”

They got up, grabbing their jackets and shoes. Haechan’s belly started rumbling just as he opened the front door.

“I’ll text them, let them know we’re on our way-” Mark was saying from across the room. Then his face blanched, his gaze fixed on the doorway. “Oh my God.”

Haechan looked around.

Daejung was there, looking out of the ordinary in his casual clothes. He was holding a key – he’d been about to enter.

“Oh my God,” Mark repeated as he noticed this too.

Daejung looked almost as surprised to see Mark, as Mark was to see him. But he recovered quicker, moving his gaze to Haechan. “Hi Haechanie – can we talk-”

Haechan snapped into action, trying to slam the door shut, but Daejung’s palm smacked against the wood.

“Haechannie, please-”

“Get out-”

Mark dropped his bag and ran forward.

But it was too late, Daejung shoved the door open and stepped inside.

Haechan leapt back and Mark grabbed his arm, pulling him behind himself.

Daejung kicked the door shut and took a deep breath. “I came here to apologise.”

Haechan was shaking his head. “I d-don’t give a fuck about your apologies. Just g-get out.”

“If we can just talk, you’ll see this was a big misunderstanding.” Daejung moved closer and Mark backed up, keeping Haechan behind him.

“Hey, stay the fuck away from him,” Mark said.

“A _misunderstanding?”_ Haechan repeated, incredulous.

“Those things I said – I didn’t mean it. I never would have hurt you. I never would have used that picture-”

“What about the things you _did_!”

“Haechannie…” Daejung shook his head, like Haechan was a silly child, “hadn’t we talked about this, huh? About what I did or what you _think_ I did?” He spoke in a reasonable tone but he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Would you really ruin my life over a-” he laughed “- _ice_ _lolly_?” He took another step forward.

Mark planted his feet on the floor. “ _I said_ _stay the fuck away from him!”_

Daejung gaze flicked to Mark and back again.

“ _Please,_ Donghyuck, I could go to jail for this-”

Haechan jutted his chin. “Good.”

Daejung’s face darkened with anger. “You’d really ruin my life like that?” He took a step closer and now they had nowhere else to go. “You selfish, little- _argh!”_

Mark punched him.

Daejung hit the floor. Hard.

Daejung was a lot larger than Mark but, somehow, Mark had managed to floor him.

Mark took a step back. He was panting. “Haechan, call the police.”

Haechan pulled out his phone. But before he could press call, Daejung surged to his feet. _“Mark!”_

Mark spun and punched him again. It wasn’t enough to send Daejung to the floor this time but he did stumble back a couple of steps.

“We’re calling the police,” Mark said.

Daejung drew up short.

Haechan pressed call and put the phone to his ear.

Daejung turned tail and ran.

Haechan rushed to shut the door behind him. He checked the peep hole but Daejung had already gone.

He felt Mark pull the phone from his numb fingers and realised the operator had answered.

“The police,” he said. “Yes, I need to report an intruder in our home.” He looked at Haechan and mouthed, _sit down._

Once they were both the police and Woosung were on their way, Mark crossed to the sofa where Haechan was sitting.

“D-do you think he was waiting?” Haechan stammered. “He saw the others leave and he thought I was alone, didn’t he?”

“But you weren’t,” Mark said firmly. “You weren’t alone, okay?” He grimaced suddenly, cradling his hand to his chest.

“I’ll get you some ice,” Haechan said quickly.

“I’ve never punched anyone before,” Mark said once he had a tea towel full of ice pressed to his knuckles. “Just in time for a next comeback, hey?”

“Yeah,” Haechan said, though he struggled to summon a smile. “Thanks.”

Mark put on a brave face but he looked as shaken as Haechan felt. “Anytime.”

* * *

“It’s fucking ridiculous – it’s an invasion of privacy!” Doyoung had been raging, now, for well over fifteen minutes. The program they had been enjoying was paused and his takeout was getting cold.

“The camera won’t be _inside_ the dorm,” Taeyong explained. He was struggling to remain calm. “It will be on the front door.”

Doyoung’s frustration was building. “I can’t be the only one who thinks this is crazy?” He looked helplessly at his flatmates: Taeyong, Haechan and Johnny.

Haechan said nothing. Taeyong, Johnny and Mark were keeping more secrets for him now: like the police visit to their dorm yesterday and the reason behind SM suddenly installing cameras on their front door.

Johnny shrugged. “I’m fine with it. Saesangs have been causing problems recently.”

“Saesangs!” Doyoung repeated incredulously. “Do you really think this is about _saesangs?”_

“This is an excuse to monitor us,” Yuta said. “I agree with Doyoung. It’s obvious they want to track our comings and goings.”

“I can bring your concerns to management,” Taeyong said. “But I don’t think it will change anything.”

“I think the cameras are a good thing,” Mark said. He was wearing an oversized sweater, the sleeves drooping past his knuckles to hide his bruises.

“So they can ask us why we came back late when we have an interview the next day?” Taeil argued.

“So they can know if we don’t spend a night in the dorm?” Jaehyun added.

“It makes me feel safer,” Mark said stubbornly.

“Me too,” Johnny said.

“I agree,” Taeyong added. “But, like I said, if the rest of you aren’t happy I will brin-”

“You’ll bring our concerns to management, yeah,” Doyoung scoffed, “we get it. What’s next? Are we going to have to ask permission before leaving the dorm?”

“No, it’s nothing like that-”

“We’re not rookies anymore,” Yuta continued. “They’re supposed to be easing the rules not adding new ones.”

“The cameras are there for our safety.”

“Yeah, right,” Doyoung said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on _our_ side, Taeyong?” Yuta said.

Taeyong clenched his jaw.

Haechan got to feet. Everyone turned to look at him. “You can tell them, hyung,” he told Taeyong.

He saw confusion on their faces and started making his way towards his room as fast as possible.

Taeyong’s eyes widened. “Haechanie – wait, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just – I don’t want to be here when you do.”

“Tell us what…?” Taeil said but Haechan had already closed his bedroom door behind himself.

He was shaking. He backed up and sank onto his bed. He could hear them through the wall.

“Okay…” Taeyong said. He sounded unsure. “There is another reason for the cameras. Daejung – the manager who was fired last week – he assaulted Haechan during Dream promotions. The company is dealing with it but he showed up at our dorm yesterday.”

“Oh my God.”

“Is he okay?”

“What did he do?”

“When did this happen?”

Haechan realised he was holding his breath and let it out.

“He’s fine,” Taeyong was saying. “It happened after Dream’s Music Bank performance.”

“Music Bank,” Jaehyun said, his voice faint. “He assaulted him after Music Bank?”

“Yes he… he parked in an empty petrol station and he… attacked him in the back of the van.”

They all started talking over each other again.

_“What.”_

“Oh my God.”

“What did he want?”

“Wait – did you say he turned up _here_?”

“But he’s _okay?”_

“Yes,” Taeyong said. “Haechannie is fine – he’s going to be fine.”

“And the company knows, they’re dealing with it? What’s taking so long that he turned up at our fucking dorm?” Doyoung demanded.

To that, Taeyong didn’t have an answer. “They _said_ they had it under control. But he’s been arrested now – _finally_.”

“Is this why Haechanie had a panic attack at our concert?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” someone groaned – it was muffled, like he was speaking into his hands.

“How did we not know?” Jungwoo said, voice soft and full of pain.

“I don’t know,” Taeyong said bitterly, “it went on for two weeks before we found out.”

“What do you mean by assaulted…?” That was Yuta. “What did he do?”

There was silence. Then: “he hit him; he suffocated him; he threatened to – rape him if he didn’t do what he wanted-”

His words were drowned by a sudden uproar.

“That sick fucking bastard!” Haechan was able to pick out Doyoung’s scream over everyone shouting.

It sounded like they were on their feet.

Haechan’s heart was hammering.

“And he had the _nerve_ to turn up here?”

“If I see him, I’ll kill him!”

The noise suddenly quietened. “Jaehyunnie, it’s okay, please don’t cry,” Taeyong was saying. “He’s gonna get what he deserves.”

“Inkigayo was the next day. Haechanie cried and begged me to stay with him. I thought, _ah poor kid must be so tired._ ” Jaehyun’s voice broke. “I had no idea. I even thought he might be _jealous_ that I was leaving him out.” He started to cry in earnest. “I’m his hyung.”

Haechan’s eyes were very wide. He had never heard Jaehyun cry before. Though they been roommates, the elder never showed him when he was upset – determined that he should be a strong hyung. A feeling of shame suddenly washed over him. How could Haechan ever have doubted his sweet and lovely and fierce hyungs?

He stood up and crept out of the room.

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears were running down Jungwoo’s and Yuta’s faces too.

Haechan crossed to Jaehyun and the older boy looked up.

“Baby,” he said brokenly, holding out his arms.

Haechan sat down in his lap and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun cried, holding on like he’d never let go.

“It’s okay, hyung,” Haechan promised. “It’s okay – I’m alright now. And you stayed with me, right? You stayed with me when I asked so it’s okay.” 

Taeil, apparently, couldn’t wait any longer because he was suddenly pulling Haechan off Jaehyun’s lap and into his side. “I’m so sorry, Hyuck.”

“Seriously, it’s okay.”

Yuta crossed the room, wiping his tears furiously. Haechan detached himself from Taeil and stood up. As soon as he hugged him, Yuta broke down again.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

Jungwoo, hiccupping, wrapped them both in a hug too.

“It’s okay,” Haechan said, “how many times have I got to say it?”

When he pulled back, Doyoung hugged him fiercely. “If I’d been there – I would have killed him.”

Over his shoulder, Haechan caught Mark’s gaze. He was smiling.

Haechan rolled his eyes.

“You’re never going anywhere alone again,” Doyoung said. He looked around. “ _Right?”_

There was a chorus of agreement.

“And we should have cameras installed on the front door,” Doyoung added, earning himself a few weak laughs.

Haechan pulled back. “I don’t know how keen he’ll be to show his face again. Mark-hyung punched him when he showed up here yesterday. Twice.”

They all turned to stare at Mark.

Looking smug, Mark pulled back his sleeve to show them his bruises.

“And Mark-hyung’s only half decent at throwing a punch,” Haechan added.

There were a couple of surprised laughs at that.

“Still he ran out of here pretty fast,” Haechan continued.

Their smiles died as fast as they’d appeared.

Haechan opened his mouth to speak but Doyoung cut him off, taking his hands. “I’m sorry that we weren’t better hyungs to you,” he said. “We’ll never let anyone hurt you again, okay?”

Haechan nodded.

“I promise. All of us, we’ll look after you from now on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I really wish I could have added in a scene with Taeil as I really love Hyuckil's relationship but none came to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and found satisfaction and closure in the end - I was really happy with the way Mark and Haechan’s conversation turned out! 
> 
> Please give me some love if you've liked the story!
> 
> P.S. if you have any ideas for additional tags, please let me know


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